Inevitable
by TumblingEtceteras
Summary: Troy is the Troy we all know and love. Gabriella is the same Gabriella. But she isn’t the new girl. What would happen if they had always been at the same school? How long can the inevitable be avoided?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, actors, plotlines, locations, props or anything else remotely related to High School Musical

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, actors, plotlines, locations, props or anything else remotely related to High School Musical. Apart from the DVDs and posters of Zac Efron. Nor do I lay claim to be in possession of the genius required for the creation of such things.

Summary: Troy is the Troy we all know and love. Gabriella is the same Gabriella. But she isn't the new girl. What would happen if they had always been at the same school? How long can the inevitable be avoided?

**So have you ever wondered what happens when you mix insomnia, acute boredom and an intense desire not to learn 300 German words related to agriculture? If you have than this may well be to your liking…**

"Okay, are you ready?"

Troy Bolton grinned, resting his head on top of his folded arms before turning his expression serious. "Eyes peeled and ready…"

"On the count of three. One…two…three…" Gabriella nimbly turned the tap of the burette, ready to switch it off again as soon as Troy gave the word.

"Stop!" Gabriella reacted automatically, the liquid ceasing to fall into the conical flask almost immediately after it had changed colour, indicating the completion of the reaction. Sitting up straight again, Troy nodded his head in approval. "Good work, team."

"Indeed." Gabriella's mock seriousness dissolved into giggles as she sat back down again, much to Troy's undoing. _Was it seriously possible for anybody to be as infectiously happy as the girl sat opposite him? She was adorable. And stunningly beautiful. And intelligent. And witty… _"Bolton…" He snapped his eyes back to hers at her probing tone. "We need to write up the results, I refuse to do your write up for you, lunk-head basketball player or not…"

Troy clutched his hand to his heart, knowing that her insult was unintended; one of their private jokes. "Yes, Miss freaky genius girl…" He grinned at the rolling of her eyes as she scribbled down the results before picking up his own pen, pretty sure that before this year chemistry had never been so enjoyable. The first week of September they had been paired up as partners and never looked back; to the extent that Troy found himself migrating ever closer to her in their English lessons as well.

"So are you going to my cousin's party tonight?" Gabriella broke the comfortable silence more hesitantly than her voice belied.

"Now what sort of a question is that, Montez?" Troy teased, taking slightly more delight in her faint blush than she was aware. "Am I to presume that you will be there tonight too?"

"I think that I might…if I can't find anything better to do…" She sent him a small smile.

Setting his pen down Troy smirked, staring at the girl opposite him intently. "Correct me if I'm wrong, Gabriella, but would this be the second party in a month that you will be attending? That's only one less than me…"

Gabriella laughed. "It might be. And you were camping last weekend…that's the only reason that you weren't running riot at some hormone ridden party…"

"That's beside the point." Troy shrugged, before allowing Gabriella to continue.

"And even I need to let my hair down every once in a while. The exams start soon, anyway, so need to get it out of my system…"

Troy's eyebrows were raised. "They don't start for eleven weeks, Gabi…" He winced inwardly as he let his nickname for her slip. He usually only referred to her like that in his head (daydreams). If she was bothered she didn't show it though, hiding the shock with a pointed look in his direction.

"Eleven weeks is relatively soon. The earlier I start revision the more prepared I'll be…"

Tilting his head to the side, Troy smiled at her. "If you took the exams tomorrow you would still do unfairly well…"

Gabriella smiled, feeling a sudden urge to sigh, or would it be swooning? Troy Bolton was a pretty great guy. She couldn't help but giggle at the look of joy on his face as the bell rung and they began to gather their things together. "If I didn't know any better I'd think that you couldn't wait to leave this lesson…" she mused.

Laughing, Troy shrugged again. "I don't think that I will ever be a die-hard chemist." He leaned against the row of lockers as Gabriella opened hers. "So don't tell anybody, but I may have read 'The House of Seven Gables' on my camping trip…"

Eyes widened, Gabriella paused in what she was doing. "Really?" He nodded sheepishly. "The Wildcat superstar read a book that wasn't on the reading list?" He nodded again, his grin widening. "For fun?" Another nod of agreement. "And did you enjoy it?"

"I actually did. Once I got over the language…you tempted me when you were going on about it…"

Gabriella smiled. "Well I'm impressed. Everyone seemed to hate 'The Scarlet Letter' in class…" She pouted slightly.

"Well you're love of it and insistence that I too gain some sort of enjoyment actually worked…I feel enlightened…" he added the last bit cheekily.

"I assume that this information is to be taken to the grave?" She sent him a wry grin.

"If you don't mind." Troy glanced over his shoulder warily as his eardrums detected a slightly too high-pitched giggle; Gabriella preferred to think of it as a cackle. His suspicions confirmed, Troy winced, sending Gabriella a pre-emptive apology, to which she just smiled before turning back to her locker. She wasn't unpopular, despite her brains. She was lucky that one of the members of the basketball team, Jason, lived next door to her and that her cousin was on the football team; factors that managed to move her slightly higher up the social hierarchy than might have otherwise been the case. Unfortunately, the cheerleaders, not quite possessing the mental capacity to treat anybody other than themselves with respect, did not waste any of their energy attempting to be nice to her.

"Troy, baby…" The silky (sickly) voice assailed the pair and Gabriella deliberately fixed her eyes on her locker as Lana Metcalfe leaned up to place a kiss against Troy's lips before smirking at Gabriella smugly. "Gabrielle."

"You know that it's Gabriella…" Troy corrected his girlfriend tetchily.

"Ooops my bad." Gabriella rolled her eyes. "So I thought that I would come and rescue you…"

"Rescue me?" Troy questioned distractedly.

"From boring talk…"

Ignoring the conversation taking place behind her, Gabriella closed her locker before turning to Troy. "I'll see you later, Troy!" she brightly declared before turning away.

"Bye, Gabi…" Troy called after her retreating back, hoping that the abbreviation might serve as some sort of apology. "Have you ever heard of manners?" He asked his girlfriend frustrated.

"I don't know what you mean, babe. How was chemistry?" With that Lana changed the topic of conversation, urging Troy towards the rest of their friends.

HSMHSMHSM

Troy's eyes narrowed slightly as he stepped into the crowded kitchen and noticed one of the guys in his year with his arm around Gabriella's shoulder. He had been waiting for an opportunity to talk to her all evening, but she hadn't once ventured into the living room, leaving him feeling ever so slightly deprived of her company. At the same time, Gabriella happened to raise her eyes from the boy that she was talking to and noted Troy's entry. _Was it possible for your heart to jump and sink at the same time? Although it leapt first and then sank, if she was honest._ _Why did he have to have a girlfriend? _Hoping that Troy hadn't noticed her looking at him, she turned back to Lewis, trying to muster up the enthusiasm to pay more attention to him than the basketball captain.

Grinning in victory when the boy –Jason? Ryan? Ben? – distanced himself, Troy pushed his way through the crowd before tapping Gabriella on the shoulder.

"Are you drunk?" Troy questioned, smiling stupidly.

Gabriella turned around, "No…" her answer was wary. "Why? Do I look drunk?"

"Not at all. You've just been in here all night. I thought that maybe you were guarding the alcohol with your life or something…"

A grin may have made its way onto her face. _He'd been looking for her. _"There's too much peroxide in the other room." She winced, gasping as the sentence escaped before she had chance to stop herself. _Stupid alcohol for loosening her tongue. Think before you talk, Gabi. _"Sorry…" she mumbled, glancing cautiously at Troy who appeared more amused than anything else.

"What are you apologising to me for? Do you honestly think that I believe that my girlfriend's hair is naturally that colour? I feel so mentally underestimated…" He pouted at her, nudging her gently with his shoulder.

Gabriella shrugged. "Ah yes. Underestimating the mental capacity of basketball players…I always slip up there…" She moved to open the door, gesturing outside before continuing. "Anyway, I'm going to get a bit of air, I think that Lewis was trying to flirt with me so I'm going to escape outside for a bit…"

"Well," Troy offered his arm to Gabriella, emboldened by the alcohol giving him a slight buzz, "I think that I should accompany you. Just in case he tries to follow…"

Raising her eyebrows at him, Gabriella counted to three before linking her arm through his. _No need to appear too eager._

"So I'm sorry…again…about Lana before, it was really rude of her…"

Gabriella scoffed, leaning against the wall. "Yeah. Because I am completely torn to bits by the fact that a cheerleader is rude to me." She managed to disguise the slight worry that had begun to recently creep into her mind.

"Well there's no need for it…"

Gabriella sighed, debating whether to broach the topic with him. "Hey, Troy…" her voice was soft, half hoping that maybe he wouldn't hear and would steer the conversation in another, less awkward, direction.

"Yeah," he turned his body to get a better view of her.

"You don't have to say, but, well… I mean Lana really doesn't bother me, she's just being a cheerleader, but, I mean, does she actually dislike me? Because she's getting worse. And I can't believe I'm talking to you about this because she's your girlfriend and, Lord, I really need to stop talking. Ignore me. Do you think that Chad has a thing for Taylor?" The last bit came out as a muddle of words.

Troy's gaze had become concerned as he listened to her, and he sighed. "I don't know. I think, I don't know, I think that she feels threatened by you; especially because she knows that she has no reason to be bitchy to you, and because you always ignore her…maybe she's just trying to get a rise out of you…"

"Yeah, I suppose. And I'm sorry for bringing it up…"

"Hey," Troy slipped a finger under her chin, lifting her head up to look at him. "Don't be. I didn't realise that it was getting to you. You always act so composed around her…I would have tried harder to get her to stop…"

Gabriella smiled softly at him. "No. I can cope if she's just being…her…" she shot him an apologetic glance. "But, I don't know, if she actually doesn't like me, then…" she paused. "I think maybe all the peroxide did get to me, I'm being all insecure…" Shrugging, Gabriella rolled her eyes and attempted to brush her concern off with a grin.

Not at all fooled, Troy stared at her intently. "You don't have any reason to be insecure…" his voice was soft, but both were becoming increasingly aware of the depth of such sentiments.

"So…speaking of the delightful Lana," she winced again at the sarcasm lacing her words, "I haven't seen her tonight…" _Or, rather, heard her cackle…_

Troy shrugged. "Unfortunately she had to go to a wedding or something in Colorado or somewhere…"

Gabriella snorted. "Wow. That was precise."

Another shrug of his shoulders. "Yeah. I'm finding it more and more difficult to pay attention when she speaks…"

"That's not the boyfriendliest thing to say," Gabriella remarked as she picked at the grass, trying not to feel too happy about his remark.

"I guess not. It's just easier not to get on her bad side…"

Truth be told, Troy was having an increasingly difficult time trying to remember why he was going out with Lana. He knew that he was the captain of the basketball team. And that she was the captain of the cheerleading team; blonde and thin and every other cliché that came with it. But did he really want to be in a relationship with her? The first couple of months had been fun. However, since they had come back to school that term she had grown increasingly obnoxious, and disparaging towards other people (Gabriella); something he knew that had more to do with jealously than anything else. As a result, they had grown further and further apart and he was seriously beginning to question his choice of girlfriend.

Simply shrugging at the slightly vacant expression on Troy's face, Gabriella slid down the wall until she was sat on the grass. "I knew that I would regret being distracted by the shininess of these shoes. They're really just the devil's torture instrument of choice; I'm convinced of it…"

Laughing, Troy sat down beside her. "I thought that you seemed taller…" He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, inspecting her appearance properly for the first time that evening. He had only caught a glimpse of her at the beginning of the party, not having sufficient opportunity to take her in before his team mates had demanded his attention. She was wearing grey skinny jeans with a silky midnight blue top, and her facial features had been accented by slightly more make-up than she would usually wear. All in all, she looked gorgeous; temptingly so.

In a bid to distract himself, Troy grinned: "I so caught Chad checking Taylor out in gym last week…"

"Really?" She smiled as she straightened up. "I reckon that she's crushing on him. She totally denies it, but I reckon that the bickering is a sure sign…"

Troy chuckled. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Chad's always moaning about her. I think that he's in denial…"

"Do you reckon that anything will ever happen?"

Troy sighed. "Honestly? I don't know. I mean Taylor never comes to parties and stuff. I don't know when they'd have chance for something to happen…I can hardly see Chad building up the courage to approach her at school, even if he does stop living in denial…"

Gabriella giggled. "You mean that yet another Wildcat superstar is really a big scaredy cat?"

"Taylor's scary!" Troy exclaimed. "And what do you mean 'another'…tell me who it is and I'll kick him off the team!"

"I wonder who I could mean…" Gabriella mused amusedly. "You know the blonde haired, blue eyed one…I've heard he's kind of cute, despite being a complete wuss…" _Why had she said that? _

The inevitable could only be delayed for so long.

Reflexively Troy's grin widened at her admission, before he leaned conspiratorially closer to her. "Really. I think I heard that too…Troy something is his name, right?" He flirted back; his subconscious battling fiercely against the rational part of his mind, forcing any thoughts of a girlfriend back into the furthest crevices of his consciousness.

The inevitable could only be delayed for so long.

A shiver ran down Gabriella's spine as Troy's warm breath hit the side of her neck. "I think that might have been it…"

"You think?"

"Erm…" The hazy part of her brain telling her to keep her stare fixed upon the ground was becoming more and more dulled with every second that passed. Heart pounding, her head lifted almost of its own accord, her eyes coming face to face with a pair of startling blue orbs as she turned to look at the boy next to her. "I…"

The inevitable crept ever closer.

Troy's breath caught in his throat as he fought to tear his gaze from Gabriella's eyes; patent anxiety colouring the dark of her pupils. They needed to break their stare. Someone needed to say something; to move away; to break the spell. Neither did. The blaring noise of the music seemed to be sucked back into the house, time stilling as their gaze intensified.

"I…" Gabriella tried to speak again; the oblivion of longing snatching the words from her mouth before she had chance to utter them.

Troy wasn't sure how has hand managed to raise itself to brush his fingers across her cheeks; but it did. Her eyes drifted close at his touch, only opening again as his thumb gently traced her lower lip, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. Their eyes met again, this time closer, knowledge reflected in both pairs. Their faces inched closer together, lips brushing tentatively, noses rubbing against each other as the kiss grew in certainty. Gabriella sighed, Troy's tongue sliding gently between her parted lips and engaging her own in a slow, but dangerous dance. Until realisation dawned. Jerking backwards, Gabriella's hands detached themselves from their resting place on Troy's shoulders. Eyes widened she fled.

Troy watched her retreating form, eyes closing in awareness as the door closed and shielded her from his view. That had been very wrong; but oh so right. His head sunk into his hands as he contemplated the mistake that he had just made; his life had just become a lot more complicated. The inevitable could only be delayed for so long.

**A/N: So what do you think? This isn't going to be an epic, possibly a two or three part story if you want me to continue…**


	2. Chapter 2

In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, actors, plotlines, locations, props or anything else remotely related to High School Musical. Apart from the DVDs and posters of Zac Efron. Nor do I lay claim to be in possession of the genius required for the creation of such things.

**A/N: Thank you so much for your amazing response. I can't say exactly how many chapters this might be, but I reckon that there will be at least one more…and perhaps an epilogue…I'm leaving it up to my muse!**

On the first day Troy awoke with his head buzzing; not because of a hangover, but because of the indescribable guilt: guilt at having done something so uncharacteristic; guilt at having purposeful done something that would hurt Lana if she were ever to find out; and most of all, guilt at not regretting it. Light brought elucidation as it seeped through the curtains. If he had been unsure before of the future of his relationship, now he knew. Squeezing his eyes shut, Troy desperately tried to detect Gabriella's lingering taste on his palate; he was sure that he could still smell the faint fragrance of vanilla that he had come to associate with her. And then he remembered. He remembered the look on her face, the startled eyes, and the intolerable guilt. He remembered how quickly she had fled from him. He remembered the desperation that he had felt as he searched for her back in the house, knowing that she had almost certainly gone home, and feeling sick to the stomach at the possibility that she had walked home alone. He had tried to call her, her phone unsurprisingly ringing out. That had been before he realized that he had absolutely no idea what to say to her; to calm her and make her understand that this wasn't her fault. Only then, as he had drifted asleep did another preoccupation assail him: he had to tell Lana. Nine hours of undisturbed, partly blissful, partly stomach turning sleep later, Troy still had no idea what he was going to do.

_He had to break up with Lana. He longed to be with Gabriella. Did he have to tell Lana?_ The term "cheating" sounded so cruel, so thoughtless, and so malicious; characteristics that Troy would never have associated with himself up until that point. He may have been thoughtless, but he hadn't been uncaring. He definitely hadn't gone to the party with any intention of kissing Gabriella, it was just that the more time they spent together the harder it had become for him to suppress the overwhelming urge to taste her, to be with her. Telling Lana would have been an admission of his failings; of his malevolence. He had no idea of knowing how she would react, and it scared him to think how angry and upset she would be; not to mention what she would do if she found out that Gabriella was involved. It was at times like this that Troy wondered why he hadn't just broken things off with his girlfriend when he knew it wasn't going anywhere; a pondering that made him loathe himself even more when he landed on the reason. Troy liked being popular and he liked the perks. It didn't mean that he was a stereotypical, cold-hearted jock, but it did mean that he took advantage of his situation sometimes. He was a teenage boy, and he liked profiting from having a hot girlfriend draping herself over him. He wasn't proud of it, but he couldn't deny it either. So to have to turn around to his girlfriend and tell her that he had kissed somebody else constituted an unwelcome admission for Troy: was he really all that different from the jerks that he despised? It seemed not.

As the sun filtered through her blinds, Gabriella decided that light was most definitely bad. Darkness was comforting, in a strange almost paradoxical way: it encompassed, it shielded and it fostered denial. She clenched her eyes closed, attempting with all of her might to ward off the invading glare of sunlight and the inevitable onset of a new day. She was usually a positive person, every day held something new. Last night had changed a lot of things though. Gabriella prided herself on her strong character and on her sound values. _Treat others as you would expect them to treat you. _For the first seventeen years of her life this had paid off; she was surrounded by loving friends and family, and she could honestly say that she had never done anything to purposefully hurt anybody. Last night had changed that. As her and Troy's lips had pressed against each other, Gabriella hadn't thought about his girlfriend. And when she had remembered her, it had taken her longer than she liked to admit to pull away. So as the sun streamed through the windows, Gabriella silently prayed that it wouldn't. Because the impending daylight carried with it unwanted truths.

If guilt wasn't enough to cause her to wrap herself in the remaining vestiges of darkness, there was another unpleasant emotion clawing at her: longing. Or was it greed? No matter how appalled she was with what she had done, Gabriella could not shake the memory of how right it had felt to be kissing Troy Bolton. Every time that her eyes drifted closed it was taking longer to bleach from her retinas the image of his deliciously intense eyes as he had leaned into her. Gabriella could no longer deny the fact that she wanted Troy; she coveted him, she wanted to have something that didn't belong to her. Making her way to the kitchen, Gabriella ignored the curious glance of her mother as she delved into the freezer and pulled out a tub of Ben and Jerry's. Grabbing a spoon, she slumped down at the kitchen island and dug in. Her mother watched concerned as she ate. And ate. And ate.

And so there was morning. And then there was evening – the first day.

**/**

On the second day, Troy didn't wake. He hadn't slept. He ignored the incessant buzzing of his phone, a quick glance at the screen telling him that it was his girlfriend. He couldn't talk to her yet.

Gabriella frowned as her eyes fluttered open and she realised that she wasn't in her bedroom. Sleep's hazy fog rising, it dawned on her that she must have fallen asleep on the sofa. She noted the empty tub of ice-cream lying on the floor, and was thankful for the blanket that was tucked around her body. The door creaked open and her mother smiled at her, concern lacing her features.

"Do you want to talk?"

"Not yet..." Gabriella's reply was soft. _Could she talk?_ The last vestiges of sleep slipping from her body, Gabriella sighed as the battle of conflictig emotions once again struck up within her conscience.

And so there was morning. And then there was evening – the second day.

**/**

On the third day, Troy was snatched from his slumber by the taunting blaring of his alarm clock. He changed slowly, deliberately, trying to put off the journey to school as long as possible.

Gabriella pulled on her favourite over-sized hoodie, scraping her hair back into a bun before wincing at her appearance in the mirror. _Maybe she would fade into the background_. If only she could get through this day then everything would be okay.

She pushed the floating bits of cereal around her bowl as she pondered the trials that the day would bring, only pausing in her actions when she heard the gently probing voice of her mother.

"_Are you ready to talk?"_

"_I don't think so." _

Exactly ten minutes apart Troy Bolton and Gabriella Montez walked through the front doors of East High School. Troy sat in his desk at the front of homeroom staring intently at the door: Gabriella was never late. As the seconds ticked by his nervousness grew. He glanced guiltily at the girl sat next to him, too engrossed in her conversation to notice his unusual demeanor. Her attention was only stirred when Gabriella rushed into the room, seconds before the bell went.

"Oh, look, the geek nearly didn't make it on time…"

He couldn't chastise her.

Gabriella kept her gaze fixed on the floor as she navigated her way to the back of the classroom, still wishing that she was safely tucked under her duvet, protected by darkness. Yet, she had a plan, and she was going to stick to it. There would be no trips to her locker that day. There would be no eating in the canteen. She had spent the weekend itemizing every possibility of running into Troy during the school day before meticulously reshuffling her habits to ensure that they would not cross paths. And so she hurried out of homeroom as soon as Ms. Darbus clapped the register shut. Unavoidable encounter managed to the best of her ability, Gabriella sped on.

Troy, on the other hand, hadn't meticulously formulated a method of avoiding his girlfriend. It turned out that fate had taken care of that task for him. Apart from her lightly reprimanding him for ignoring her phone calls the previous day, to which that Troy had rather pathetically replied that he couldn't find his phone, Lana had been unusually absent from his side; society duties meaning that she was busy all day.

She smiled as she passed him in the corridor at the change-over between sixth and seventh period. "Smile, babe…"

Troy's breath caught in his throat. He needed to say something. "I…er…"he stepped closer to her. "We need to…" _talk_. He didn't get chance to utter the all important word as Lana's friend grabbed her hand and dragged her laughing down the hallway.

"See you tomorrow, babe…" Troy watched her departing back miserably.

And so there was morning, and there was evening – the third day.

**/**

On the fourth day, Troy woke up without the aid of his alarm clock, the knowledge of what he would be doing that day preventing him from wallowing in the drowsy state that housed him between the hours of five and ten most mornings.

Troy arrived at school earlier than he normally would have, heading straight to his girlfriend's locker and startling her with the serious expression on his face. "Are you okay, Troy?" she questioned, the obvious concern making his task even harder. His eyes drooped closed as she brushed a kiss against his lips, rubbing his cheek gently, soothingly. He tried to forget. He desperately tried to pretend that the events of Friday night hadn't happened and that he didn't need to say anything. He attempted to convince himself that this was what he wanted. But her lips were just the slightest bit too moist. She smelled of strawberries and not vanilla. She wasn't Gabriella, and as hard as he tried to tell himself that it didn't matter; it did.

"Can we talk?" He hoped that the variation on an overworked phrase would be less harsh.

He led her away from the gradually filling corridor, a guiding arm on her back.

Seated on a bench of the roof-top garden, he began to talk – with one major admission. He told her that he didn't think it was working, that they weren't seeing each other as much, and that he didn't know whether he would have time when the exams started. He lied. Lana cried. They were over; but it didn't make Troy feel any better.

Gabriella didn't go to school late that morning, her mother insisting on giving her a lift when she went to work; presumably unsure whether her daughter would actually go in to school without supervision. Gabriella coped, though, because she knew that Troy got the late bus on Tuesdays.

So when she walked down the main hallway and saw him leaning against Lana's locker, her stomach constricted: not simply because her carefully thought out plan of attack had been compromised, but because he was kissing his girlfriend. She watched as Lana pulled back and stroked his face; she watched as his eyes remained closed; she watched as he led her down the corridor away from her with a gentle hand on her back. Guilt transformed into envy; and envy into hurt. Gabriella hurried towards the toilets and locked herself in a cubicle.

When the bell signaling homeroom rang and Gabriella still hadn't taken her seat, Troy knew that she wouldn't. She didn't make it to homeroom, using the time to recapitulate her plan of avoidance in her head. It was executed perfectly.

And so there was morning, and there was evening – the fourth day.

**/**

On the fifth day, Troy woke up feeling hopeful; but no less guilty. He knew that Gabriella was avoiding him and had felt as if he had been going insane the previous days every time that he caught a glimpse of chocolate brown curls. Today was Wednesday, though: English day as he had come to label it as his feelings for Gabriella had developed. He was determined that he would speak to her, to attempt to make things right.

Gabriella normally looked forward to periods five and six on a Wednesday: she loved English, and she got to spend time with Troy. This particular Wednesday, however, these facts compromised her evasion strategy somewhat. Gabriella was going to be spending an hour in the same room, three desks across from him. It was going to be torture; and Gabriella simply didn't know how she was going to plan for it.

Her fingers tapped nervously against the breakfast bar as she read over her biology homework, her mother shooting her another curious glance.

"Are you sure that you don't want to talk?"

"I don't think I know how…"

At half past eleven Gabriella opened her file and began slowly searching through it, page by page, until she found the sheets that she would need for that lesson. She didn't look up when she heard the rabble of basketball players make their way into the room. She didn't look up when somebody called Troy's name and he distractedly answered.

She had planned and desperately relied on managing to leave the classroom first at the end of the lesson. Mrs. Johnson, however, thwarted her plan.

"Gabriella, could you stay behind for a minute?" the kindly woman's voice rung out at the end of the lesson; and Gabriella's heart sunk. Only then did she chance a look Troy, who was staring intently, almost hopefully at her.

Troy waited outside the door, telling his friends that he would meet them outside, and tried not to eavesdrop as their teacher inquired whether everything was okay with Gabriella, obviously unused to her star pupil not uttering a word throughout an entire lesson.

Assuring her that she was fine, just tired, Gabriella gingerly made her way over to the door, not sure how she would feel if Troy was loitering and waiting for her. What scared her most was how she would feel if he hadn't waited for her. She didn't have to find out. Pulling open the door, Gabriella came face to face with the boy that had been plaguing her thoughts the since late Friday night. An unfamiliar stinging gnawed at the corners of her eyes, and Gabriella squeezed them shut in an attempt to fight off tears.

"Gabi, please, can we go and talk?"

She opened her eyes, already glossy and red, trying to shake her head.

"Please…"

Suddenly devoid of the capacity to disagree, Gabriella mutedly followed him as he ushered them into the classroom that their teacher had just vacated.

The pair sat silently on desks facing each other, neither knowing how to start the conversation.

"Lana and I broke up…" Troy abruptly blurted out, desperate to break up the awkward silence that was new to them.

Their eyes met. "Does she know?" As soon as she murmured the words, Gabriella dropped her gaze back to the floor and picked at the fabric of her skirt.

Troy had the decency to look ashamed as he spoke. "No…I…"

"That makes sense – I wondered why she hadn't tried to kill me…"

Silence.

More silence.

It was suffocating.

"I don't want it to be like this between us…" Troy whispered.

"I don't know how to change it…"

"Can we just…" the rest of the sentence lingered in the air.

"Forget?" Gabriella sniffed as the response left her lips, not daring to look up at Troy and see the agreement that would no doubt be playing on his face.

"Do you want to?"

Slowly, Gabriella raised her head, studying him intently; startled by the fusion of uncertainty and longing lacing his features. "I don't think that there's a choice…"

"Is that what you want?"

"It doesn't matter…"

"Yes it does…I like you, Gabi…I don't regret what happened on Friday – I just wish that it had happened some other way."

"It didn't though, did it?" Gabriella's eyes hardened. "I don't do things like that. I barely go to parties but I most definitely don't kiss other girls' boyfriends. That's all I can think about."

"Gabi, I don't do things like that either. I feel horrible. It isn't your fault."

"Don't patronize me, Troy. I'm a big girl, and I know what I did."

"God, Gabriella, I don't know what to do to make things right between us…" She shrugged. "Can you at least say something?"

"I don't know what to say, Troy."

"Can we try and go back to normal? Please?"

Gabriella nodded slowly before picking up her bag and walking out of the room.

When her mother arrived home that evening, she was unexpectedly met by her daughter sitting on the couch.

"I need to talk, mummy…"

So she talked. And cried. And everything seemed just that little bit better when she went to bed that night.

And so there was morning, and there was evening – the fifth day.

**/**

On the sixth day, Troy woke up feeling optimistic. Things weren't perfect, but they were better. He wanted Gabi back, and he was determined to do anything to achieve it.

Gabriella wasn't sure how she felt when she woke up. She supposed that it was a mixture of relief and persisting worry. Even the few days that she hadn't been speaking to Troy felt too long, but she didn't know whether she could go back to how they had been in the knowledge of what they could have.

When Troy arrived into homeroom that morning, he was almost shocked to see that Gabriella was already sitting in her place at the back of the classroom, talking animatedly to Taylor. Their eyes met across the room when Gabriella heard Zeke call his name. He smiled. She smiled.

At lunchtime Gabriella frowned when she opened her locker and a piece of paper fluttered out of it and on to the ground. She smiled as she read it:

'_Hey. There's something waiting for you on the second shelf of the potting shed in the rooftop garden. Sorry again about everything. Troy x_

_P.s. You look beautiful._

Gabriella couldn't control the smile that spread across her face as she reread the note. More excitedly than she would let herself believe, she made her way to the garden, smiling at what awaited her: a copy of '_Atonement'_ and a box of chocolates. She smiled whimsically as she remembered telling Troy that there was nothing better than a lazy afternoon curled up on the sofa with a new book and a box of chocolates.

Gabriella literally walked into Troy later that day, fate obviously having decided that they needed a nudge. Her skin burned at the steadying touch of his hand upon her waist. She looked up at him, surprised, before blushing at the searching look that he was giving her.

"Thank you," she whispered up at him, disappointed when he moved his hand from her waist and stepped back.

"You're welcome. How are you feeling?"

"Better. You?"

"Better."

Troy walked Gabriella to her locker, even though he knew it would make him late for his next class.

Things weren't fixed, but they were on the mend.

Gabriella's mother almost did a double take when she walked into the living room that evening and saw a smile on her daughter's face.

"Good book?" she questioned, noting the item in Gabriella's hand and the engrossed expression on her face.

"Yeah." Gabriella's reply said more than that one word betrayed.

And so there was morning, and there was evening – the sixth day.

**/**

On the seventh day, Troy woke up and smiled.

On the seventh day, Gabriella woke up and smiled.

In homeroom, he shot her furtive glances that she responded to with a blush and a shy smile.

The strange sensation at the pit of their stomachs as they made their way, separately, to chemistry was not disquiet, nor was it self-loathing or shame. It was excitement.

As Troy slid into his usual spot next to Gabriella, he knew that the day was going to go well. They didn't get much opportunity to talk during the lesson, their teacher finding it, rather inconveniently, more useful to give a lecture on the reactions of various chemicals than to actually let them see for themselves. Emboldened, by what Troy was going to call the Friday feeling from now on, he placed his hand over Gabriella's on her knee, smiling at the momentarily shocked expression on her face and gulping as she turned her hand over and allowed them to link fingers.

When the bell rang, they reluctantly relinquished the contact, but walked especially slowly to her locker, testing the waters with easy, uncomplicated conversation.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Troy probed.

"I actually think I am."

"Can I walk you home tonight?"

Gabriella gulped as she looked up into his startlingly blue eyes. There was only one response that she could give.

Exactly four hours and twenty seven minutes later, Troy and Gabriella were ambling down the road, skirting around serious conversation by filling each other in on what had happened to them during the week, without mentioning the reason why they didn't already know.

As they approached her house, Troy slowed his pace before coming to a stop just shy of her drive. "Gabi," he urged, causing the petite girl to also stop. "I really want you to be my girlfriend."

Gabriella blushed, her heart bursting into a million tiny pieces as he voiced the words that she had been so desperate to hear for so long. Yet she sighed. No matter how much she wanted it, things couldn't just magically happen. "I…" she started, relieved when she noted the understanding tingeing Troy's eyes as she hesitated. "We can't right now. It's too soon."

Hands in his pockets, Troy exhaled softly. "I know. I want to do things properly. And I'm sorry for that…"

"Can we just…take it slowly? Be friends again for a while…"

He nodded. "I'd really like that."

A tentative hand on the small of her back, Troy walked Gabriella to her door, kissing her on the cheek as they said goodbye.

Troy turned to walk away as she opened her front door, his head snapping back around as she called his name. "Could I maybe call you, later?"

A cheesier grin had never been seen on Troy Bolton's face.

Troy Bolton and Gabriella Montez both went to sleep with smiles on their faces that evening.

And so there was morning, and there was evening – the seventh day.

**A/N: Wow, that's the longest thing that I have ever written. And it was so therapeutic! Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: The long-overdue final chapter for this story. Thank you so much to everybody that has read and reviewed this. I hope that this does them justice :-)**

When Gabriella Montez had told Troy Bolton that she wanted to go back to being uncomplicated friends again for a while, it had seemed like a necessity: an act of consideration for the girl who they had wronged; a punishment for their misdemeanour. As the words had trudged obligated from her mouth, her stomach had already begun to flutter in anticipation of that "a while" finally being over.

It was an excitement that had been strangely short lived.

After two weeks of a return to their easy former friendship, now enhanced by casual flirting, shy touches, and a near kiss that she had inexplicably stopped, Gabriella's excitement had morphed into a nervous fear.

Lying on the grass in her back garden one warm spring afternoon almost two months after that inevitable evening, Gabriella knew that it was her ineffable and unfathomable anxiousness that had created the almost unnatural, foot-wide gap between their bodies. Basking in the comfortable silence, she wondered whether Troy had noticed her growing awkwardness, physical at least, around him before realising that over the last couple of weeks his easy efforts at drawing her closer to him had all but ceased. It was a fact that should have eased her nervousness about the impending – delayed- change in their relationship. Yet it merely engendered more frightful concerns: _Had he changed his mind about her? Was he tired of waiting? Was there somebody else?_

"What are you scared of?" His smooth voice momentarily stilled the conflicting thoughts in her mind.

Gabriella glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes, frowning at the apparent randomness of his question. _You_, she thought wryly before mentally correcting herself: _Us._ "Spiders," she shrugged, giving the standard answer and biting her lip as she saw his face drop for a second and a possible hint of frustration flicker over his features before he smiled.

"How can somebody as logical and scientifically aware as you be afraid of spiders?" Troy asked, amusement lacing his voice, as he tilted his head to regard her.

"They have eight legs," she replied with a shudder. "I have a severe distrust of creatures with more than four or less than two legs." At his snort, Gabriella's eyes flickered over his features and she felt compelled to elaborate: on her answer to the obvious interpretation of his enquiry; and in response to the subtle question behind it. "Sometimes logic doesn't play a part. You can be scared of the most unthreatening of things just because one random thought like freaks you out for a moment. And then afterwards that's what sticks with you." She picked at the grass beside her, a sense of déjà-vu assaulting her and attempting to pull her back to that moment in her cousin's backyard when she and Troy had been involved in one of their first true heart-to-hearts.

Tilting his head to the side, Troy observed Gabriella curiously and tried to figure out whether her reply had simply referred to her fear of spiders, or whether she had somehow picked up on his implicit ponderings. He shrugged, sending her a small smile. "Sometimes people get scared of the smallest things when they shouldn't," he stated simply before he rolled onto his side and propped his head on his elbow. "Is there anything else?"

Subconsciously mirroring his movement, Gabriella changed positions so that she could see him properly. "Why?" she questioned, quirking her eyebrow. "And did you bang your head today or something? You're being particularly random today."

"No, I didn't; that I remember." Troy countered, rolling his eyes. "And maybe I just want to find an excuse to be your knight in shining armour." His charming response would have made her blush without the accompanying wink; as it was, her cheeks became stained a dusky pink by his remark. "You'd make a beautiful damsel in distress," he continued to flirt, making sure to keep his voice soft: so as not to intimidate her.

Gabriella flipped back over so that she was staring at the sky. "Stop flirting," she protested weakly, the corners of her mouth twitching involuntarily.

Troy just smiled wider at her lack of conviction. "Nah, it's what we do."

The stain in her cheeks began to glow. "I don't flirt," she mumbled, beginning to deliberately pluck the petals off a daisy.

"Yes you do," Troy remarked with an adoring grin. "Until you realise that you're doing it, and then you blush and try and change the subject."

Even though Gabriella avoided eye contact with him, the sheepish look in her eyes was evident and telling. "I'm sorry," she muttered, looking up at him apologetically.

"Don't be." They remained silent for another few moments, only to be interrupted by the beeping of the alarm on Troy's cell phone. "That's me," he declared with fake enthusiasm, pushing himself into a sitting position. "Off for my second ball practice of the day," he deadpanned.

Pausing before she pulled the final petal from the stalk of the daisy, Gabriella glanced up at Troy shyly. "Are we still doing ice-cream later?"

The way that he tilted his head to observe her, almost to analyse her, froze Gabriella in her position as she began to sit up. His eyes seemed to expand into further layers of contemplation and meaning in moments like these, and it stirred up the fear again. "Of course," he smiled.

A hand landed upon hers, stilling her, as she went to pull away the final petal. "You know what scares me?" his nervously gravelly voice inquired, not leaving her chance to respond: "other people being scared makes me afraid." Still numbed by the intensity of his diagnostic gaze, Gabriella allowed herself to be pulled to her feet by his warm hand. Cautiously confident, Troy squeezed her hand, taking the stripped flower from it and casting it slowly to the ground. Stepping back from her, a small smile ghosted his face when she looked up at him questioningly. "You don't need the daisy to find the answer to that question."

With an animated wave, he turned his back on her.

Fear is an illogical caprice. It stems from the smallest uncertainty and mutates and reproduces itself until that one insecurity forces its way to the forefront of your consciousness. All it takes is a slightly more logical whim to make it disappear.

Troy liked Gabriella.

She liked him back.

It was fact. It was heart warming. It was logic.

Gabriella wasn't afraid anymore.

TGTGTG

There were many things that Troy Bolton could be accused of: his Mother despaired of his inability to clean up after himself; his Father was convinced that Troy had lost his focus since beginning to spend time outside school with "that Gabriella girl"; and the aforementioned "Gabriella girl", his would-be girlfriend, would sink into her seat during Homeroom and English whenever her would-be boyfriend started messing around with his friends and terrorising the teachers. Troy Bolton was, however, perceptive. In the time between their free period earlier in the day, and that evening, Troy had detected a definite change in the mood between them: he wasn't sure what was different, he just knew that something was.

He snuck a glance at her out of the corner of his eyes and watched her swirl the remaining melted ice-cream around her bowl methodically before raising his eyebrows as she awkwardly shifted yet again. "Have you eaten too many smarties this afternoon?" he asked teasingly.

Glancing across at him, Gabriella frowned. "Huh? No..."

"Then why are you fidgeting so much? You've not stopped wriggling since we got here!"

Gabriella kicked him gently under the table and began to retract her foot before catching herself and leaving her legs stretched out so that they were brushing against his. If he was surprised by this move, he didn't show it. "These seats are just uncomfortable," she mumbled as an explanation to his previous question. She was so preoccupied with thoughts about whether he had noticed her attempt at re-establishing their physical closeness that she was entirely unaware of his shocked, if not slightly blank, eyes trained on her.

Nor did Troy's silence register with Gabriella: she was too focused on her own braveness; too embarrassed by her unusual forwardness. Nevertheless, Troy had definitely noticed the new contact of their legs. It was a simple gesture on the part of his would-be girlfriend, but it was one that had started to steer Troy's contemplations about the change in mood towards the possibility that Gabriella might be ready. At least it would have done, were Troy not so engrossed by that simplest of touches of her calf against his. After their kiss almost two months ago, the seven days that they had spent being awkward around each other, the weeks of subsequent flirting and casual touches that had been followed by an uncertainty that he had understood, but not shared, Troy knew to appreciate the significance of tiny gestures. He was used to Gabriella growing embarrassed and almost flinching when she thought that they were getting too close to one another: he was well aware that a physical distance was her way of protecting himself from whatever it was about their relationship that scared her. The casual grazing of their legs was, as far as Gabriella was concerned, a huge step; and Troy knew it.

He would never admit it to his friends, but being around Gabriella gave Troy butterflies. It planted a goofy smile on his face for hours after he had said goodbye to her, and he found himself constantly thinking about her. When watching laddish movies with his friends, he would catch himself imagining Gabriella's disapproval at some of the more vulgar, but hilarious, parts of the film. He almost gave his Mother a heart attack when he immediately agreed to go shopping with her upon her lamentation that he needed some new trainers: just because Gabriella had made a passing comment about the state of his old ones earlier. He even found himself taking the time to match his clothes in the mornings before school: because he knew that he would be seeing Gabriella.

Being around Gabriella on a normal day when she would be embarrassed and nervous about her feelings for him gave Troy butterflies. The feeling of her leg against his, and the possibilities that this contact conjured up, made Troy feel like he just might start to hyperventilate.

His friends had been right when they said that he had changed: he was well and truly under Gabriella's spell.

It was an amazing feeling.

With that thought in mind, Troy's head emptied of the numbing substance that had caused a slight constriction of his heart and congealing of his brain cells, and a small, slightly giddy smile tickled the corners of his mouth. "So I heard in the locker room today that your cousin is dating that Lisa girl on the cheer squad," he remarked, waiting in excitement for Gabriella to look at him.

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Don't expect for us to be going on a double date any time soon." Her sardonic reply was instinctive, and it was only after the words had left her mouth that she realised her slip of the tongue. Normally she would have blushed furiously and tried to correct herself: this time she didn't.

Troy took it as a definitive cue. Tilting his head, he smirked at her as he shot back a teasing response: "You mean that we won't be going on one of our strictly friends and good Lord Heaven forbid it look a date, date with your cousin?" he teased.

Gabriella blushed at his often repeated observation, but for a change she didn't ignore it. "Yes, that," she countered, sticking her tongue out and nudging his leg with hers.

Dipping his spoon back into his almost entirely melted ice-cream, Troy looked up at her challengingly. "You know," he mused aloud, "I was going to let you have a bite of my Almond Fudge before it melted, but if you're going to be rude and mock me, then I guess that I won't." He slowly raised the spoon to his lips, opening his mouth but then pausing to stare at her pointedly before taking the spoonful of ice-cream into it. "That is, unless you make it up to me and then you can gladly have some..." He grinned at her longing gaze at his bowl and the adorable wrinkling of her nose as she weighed up her options.

"Sorry?" she offered meekly, biting her lip and trying to stifle a giggle at his unimpressed look.

"Sorry?" Troy questioned cheekily in return. "Nah, that won't do it..." He brought the spoon closer to his lips.

"Hmmm," Gabriella laughed, stroking her chin in mock contemplation. "Well, I suppose that you could come back to mine to watch a movie..." she suggested.

Inwardly, Troy was doing cartwheels. Outwardly, he wanted to see what else he could wrangle from this situation. "I don't know: you really did hurt my feelings...." he added with a pout.

Eyes glittering, Gabriella shot him a sweetly sympathetic look. "My Mom's made brownies..."

His own eyes widened delightedly in response before he reached his arm across the table and held the spoon out for Gabriella. "Okay, I'm sold. I would do ANYTHING for your Mom's brownies," he murmured contentedly and took the opportunity to slide the spoon between Gabriella's lips as she began to giggle.

Savouring the mouthful, Gabriella leaned back in her chair, her eyes closed, before letting out a contented sigh. "You know," she smirked, "if you were a super hero, my Mom's brownies would be your Kryptonite!"

Troy shrugged. "Yeah, but your Mom would never give the bad guys the brownies. She loves me too much."

Rolling her eyes, Gabriella started to gather her things. "She really does." She couldn't help but find it amusing just how much her Mother fawned over Troy; Maria Montez hadn't baked so often since Gabriella had been in Middle School. Strangely, however, Troy's ecstatic ramblings about just how good the brownies were had given her Mother a sudden boost to bake every single week-end; an activity that was always accompanied by the not-so-subtle comment that her daughter should tell Troy that there was a fresh batch of Brownies. "Come on, you," she added standing up, "Let's get you some brownies before you salivate to death."

As they walked out of the cafe, side-by-side, Troy took a deep breath before wrapping his arm around Gabriella's shoulder. Her hesitation was so insignificant that he would never have noticed it had he not been expecting it. Yet after wavering for a millisecond, Gabriella relaxed into his body, casting a shy smile up at him.

Gabriella definitely wasn't scared anymore.

TGTGTG

Tutting for what must have been the millionth time since they had started watching _'Superbad',_ Gabriella gave the almost hysterical Troy a withering look. "That wasn't funny," she scoffed; readjusting herself so that her head rested more comfortably on his shoulder and trying her hardest not to look too obvious when Troy squeezed her shoulder and her insides began to churn as if they were swirling in a typhoon of confetti and sparklers.

Troy bit his lip, and attempted to stifle his laughter: "No, it definitely, definitely wasn't. It was just immature and crude and mildly amusing at most."

Giggling at his pathetic attempts, Gabriella simply settled back against his frame. "You're a horrible liar. How are you feeling about the game tomorrow?" she asked absent-mindedly; hoping to keep conversation going and save them from having to watch the rest of the film.

"We're playing Valencia," Troy replied as if that was supposed to mean something to her.

"Is that good or bad?"

"Good," he laughed. "They've lost the last ten games."

"Oh," she sighed, snaking her arm more snugly around his lower back. "How come your Dad's been making you practice really hard this week then?"

"There are going to be some scouts there for the seniors, and he thinks that it's never too early to make sure the rest of us get some attention too. Dad wants us to absolutely trounce them so that we look good and scare everyone else a bit. You coming to the after party tomorrow night?"

Scrunching her nose, Gabriella shook her head slowly. "Is everyone going to be drunk? I heard Chad saying how he wanted to get everybody absolutely wasted..."

"Did he say wasted? I'm pretty sure that he only mentioned having the odd tipple to celebrate. What?" he added at her disbelieving snort.

"The odd tipple? You're all going to be running around doing strange things, aren't you?"

"I may have a couple of beers: but just to get merry..."

"Wasted," Gabriella coughed, sticking her tongue out at him again.

"Same difference," Troy countered, nudging her shoulder with his.

"Whatever, you are so not trying to argue semantics with me."

Her challenge was lost on a confused looking Troy. "I don't think I even know what semantywhatsits are?" he pouted, sending her once again into a fit of giggles.

"Okay, then, maybe you weren't," she deadpanned. Frowning, she watched as the characters on screen fumbled around drunkenly on a bed at a house party. "Seriously, though," she muttered, gesturing at the screen. "Do people really do that? Get ridiculously drunk and annoying and go and try and lose their virginity with complete strangers..." she pulled a face as the female character was sick. "...and then barf all over the guy that they are trying to seduce?"

Troy snorted. "Yes, Gabriella. I've never heard of anyone in our year puking on during foreplay though." He knew that it was mean to embarrass her by saying things like that, but he just loved it when she blushed. "You're too cute when you get embarrassed," he mumbled, almost too quietly for her to hear, before tapping her on the nose. "Anyway, that time at your cousin's, when we ki-," he stopped himself, not wanting to ruin the evening by creating awkwardness, "-the thing sort of happened, we were both a bit drunk...it happens."

Turning her attention fully away from the television, Gabriella shifted in Troy's hold and took a moment to really look at him. His features were soft as they regarded her; there was an earnestness and hopeful intensity in his eyes that was astonishingly unthreatening and unobtrusive. Even though she knew that he was watching for her, waiting for her next move, she felt as if she could take all of the time in the world to make her assessment and gather her thoughts. Looking down bashfully, Gabriella giggled softly as she recalled his abrupt change of wording. "Speaking of being shy," she mused. "Who can't say the "k"-word?" she teased, forgetting about the matter at hand for a second.

Troy smiled softly before answering with a smirk: "The only reason that I don't say the "K"-word around you is that I'm pretty sure your blushing would reach dangerous levels and you would hyperventilate at the thought of it..."

Gabriella pouted. "No I wouldn't." Scoffing, she continued. "And you sure think highly of your kissing skills if you think that the mere mention of them would send me into a fit."

At her use of the circumvented word, Troy pumped his fist in the air. "You said it," he taunted goofily. "Although, you've now just completely battered my ego, by the way," he added as an aside. Tucking an errant curl behind her ear and letting his hand linger on her cheek, Troy changed the topic of conversation: hyper sensitive of ruining the mood or pushing Gabriella too far. "So, yeah, you should definitely come to the party tomorrow. You are the only possible reason I'd have not to get completely wasted so I need you there," he pleaded with a pout before batting his eyelids over-exaggeratedly at her unimpressed expression.

"Well I suppose it depends," Gabriella replied slowly, chewing on her lip and wondering at how, after weeks of agonising, it felt so natural to be flirting with Troy.

"What on?"

"Well, I..."

Once again they were interrupted by the ringing of Troy's cell-phone and Gabriella slumped dejectedly into her seat as he answered it. After a string of frustrated, monotone words by Troy, he hung up before sending Gabriella an extremely apologetic and disappointed look. "Supposedly my Dad has had some sort of once-in-a-lifetime brainwave and wants to run it by me before he forgets it. I should probably head," he sighed, pouting at her.

"Okay," she replied with a matching pout. Standing up, she offered her hand to him and pulled him to his feet.

"You going to be okay here on your own until your Mom gets back?" Troy asked with a concerned frown on his face as he paused in the doorway.

"Yep. I'll probably just get ready for bed now anyway."

"And am I going to see you tomorrow night?" Troy demanded rather than asked, his eyebrows waggling in a supposedly taunting manner.

Gabriella merely rolled her eyes. "Maybe. I'll see if I can persuade Taylor to come with me."

A finger raised in warning, Troy smirked at her. "You do that. Hug?"

As was their normal goodbye routine, Gabriella stepped forward into his open arms and squeezed him tightly to her before regretfully pulling back after a few moments. "So I'll see you soon, yeah?" she said quietly, already missing the feel of having him wrapped around her.

"You bet. Goodnight Gabi." With one last wave Troy began to walk towards his car, aware of Gabriella's longing gaze trailing him every step of the way.

Watching Troy walk away from her, Gabriella finally realised that she had been fighting a losing battle since the moment that they had first become lab partners.

Life, in its random complexity, is made up of an incomprehensible number of coincidences. And yet, sometimes, when it involves the right person, fate is all that matters.

Racing down the driveway after him, Gabriella gripped Troy's arm as he went to climb into his car. His eyebrows raised initially in confusion and amusement at her, Troy's expression disintegrated into one of abject shock as she wordlessly stepped closer to him and placed an uncharacteristically confident hand on his cheek.

"Gabi? What?" Troy spluttered; his hands automatically resting on her waist as the gap between their bodies narrowed even further. "Are you - ? I mean, what are you? Are - ? Is -? Does -?"

Rising up onto her tiptoes, Gabriella rested her forehead against his, "I'm going to kiss you now, so if you have any objections then I'd try and form a sentence within the next three seconds."

Troy grinned goofily before silently shaking his head.

"Right then," Gabriella resolved, suddenly feeling nervous.

She didn't get another second to contemplate her nerves before Troy swooped down and captured her mouth in a long overdue kiss.

It was everything that their first kiss should have been.

There are so many things that circumstance and fear can force us to deny: inevitable love just isn't one of them.


End file.
